


The Swan

by YouDontRememberTheSomme



Category: The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Because Snafu is 95 here, Inspired by a Ray Bradbury short story, M/M, They aren’t technically together, anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouDontRememberTheSomme/pseuds/YouDontRememberTheSomme
Summary: “Close your eyes for me,” Snafu said, his voice surprisingly soft. “You wanna see Paris? Alright, it must’ve been 1951 when I went, I stepped off into this airport and...”





	The Swan

If you asked Eugene when the strangest summer of his life was, he’d have to tell you it was when he was twenty - him and his closest friend had wandered down to an ice cream parlor in town, eagerly talking the whole way there. 

Sledge hummed under his breath as he scanned the list of flavors, pausing at one. “Lime-vanilla,” he echoed, glancing at Sidney. 

Sid gave him a familiar amused smile and shrugged. “Try it.”

As Sledge ordered, a slightly rough voice from down the counter called to him. “Why don’t you two come sit here?” the voice requested. 

Sid and Gene’s eyes landed on one Merriell Shelton, old blue eyes flashing in amusement as he slowly ate his ice cream. “Excuse me?” Sledge asked softly, his voice going quiet. 

The old man waved a hand, smiling at him. “Heard what you ordered. Used to eat the same thing when I was your age.”

“You’re Snafu Shelton,” Sid remarked, sliding down to the seat beside him. 

“I was in love with you once,” Sledge blurted out. “When-”

“No,” Snafu cut him off. “Don’t tell me when or where or how, that’s for another time. We’ll talk again, cher.”

“When I was seventeen,” Sledge continued, his face flushing. “I saw your picture in the newspaper, when there was that ball in town?”

Snafu smiled a bit wider. “Thought everyone knew that picture was from when I was twenty five. They take it out and dust it off whenever I donate to one of those,” he paused, waving a hand. “Social things. I’m no swan anymore, just an old bastard.”

Sledge bit his lip and shrugged. “Guess not everyone knew.”

Snafu’s expression softened and he stood. “Come see me tomorrow, three o’clock. Talk to me then.”

~*~

Sledge walked through the grass and weeds, his eyes on the back porch where a figure sat and smoked. 

“What do you think of the world, boo?” Snafu asked suddenly, as soon as Sledge was in earshot. 

“I don’t know enough about it,” Gene softly admitted. “What am I supposed to think?”

Snafu’s knowing smile appeared, baring white teeth. 

“Wisdom, chère. You get wise when you know that you don’t know shit.”

Eugene blinked and sat beside him on the rickety porch swing. “Do you know things?”

“None of us old people do,” Shelton softly joked. “We look at each other sometimes and we all know we know about as much as we did when we were your age. Burgie, though, he knows some stuff. You learn things when your wife dies, I imagine.”

Sledge went quiet and shook his head. “I’ll never know what that’s like.”

Snafu’s feral grin returned. “Yeah? Me neither. Almost did, just almost. Had a girl when I was young and too stupid to settle down. Don’t let it be like that with that boy of yours.”

“Sid isn’t mine,” Sledge said softly. “He’s engaged.”

“Pity for him.”

“What did you do instead of getting married?” Gene quietly asked. 

“I traveled, mon cher. I visited every place in the world I heard of and a few more just because I could. You wanna travel?”

Sledge considered and nodded. “I wanna see things, eventually. Maybe New York or Paris or Istanbul or... anywhere.”

“What else you wanna do?” Snafu asked in a low voice. 

Gene paused to think and dryly smiled. “Write a book. Smoke too much, maybe. Love the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Go on an adventure.”

“Close your eyes for me,” Snafu said, his voice surprisingly soft. “You wanna see Paris? Alright, it must’ve been 1951 when I went, I stepped off into this airport and...”

~*~

When Sledge opened his eyes again, the afternoon had faded into soft golden light. 

Snafu was staring off, toward the setting sun, like he was lost in some wisp of memory he couldn’t quite reach. 

“Mer?”

“I think that was enough adventure for one afternoon,” Snafu said softly, patting Sledge’s hand. “Come back tomorrow, same time. We’ll visit Budapest.”

Something like deep sorrow swept through Gene’s body at Snafu’s expression. He’d never seen someone look quite so lonely.

~*~

Sledge found himself wishing he’d been born sixty years earlier every time he looked at Snafu’s face. 

One afternoon in particular, as Merriell ended his story about Nairobi, Eugene tilted his head and studied the old man’s face. 

“I see it,” Sledge said softly. “The swan.”

Snafu’s eyes flicked up, looking at Gene’s curious expression. “No swan anymore, boy, just a dragon that ate it up a long time ago.”

Sledge shook his head, not believing it. “When you talk, I see him. Turn the clock back a little and you can see the man who got his picture taken.”

“Ain’t twenty five anymore, cher. Too old for a boy like you, but that’s probably better. Wouldn’ta liked me much back then, too vulgar and mean.”

Sledge bit back his reply, that he liked Snafu just as he was, but Merriell already knew what he was thinking. 

“Time for you to go home, boo,” Shelton murmured gently. “Best you don’t come back tomorrow. Find a nice boy, one like that Phillips kid.”

“But-”

“No,” Snafu said firmly. “Don’t come back. You know how sometimes you wind up an old clock and you can guess what hour it’ll stop at?”

“I suppose so,” Gene said quietly, not masking his hurt expression very well.

“You get to be my age and you’ll feel it,” he said absently. “Can feel the old gears slowing down, can tell when it’s about to stop. I’ve got a letter for you, but I won’t give it to you now.”

“Why wouldn’t you just-“

“Hush and let me talk. It’ll be a white envelope, red stamp. Think you can remember that?”

“Yes, Mer.”

“Good. You get that envelope in the mail, means I’m gone,” he said gently. “Ninety five’s awful old, Genie. I can feel this clock’s gears slowin’ down.”

Sledge opened his mouth to argue, but stayed silent. He’d always known it would happen, but...

Snafu stood, turning to Sledge. 

He was suddenly struck by the urge to photograph the sight. Shelton’s large eyes were illuminated by the setting sunlight, looking brighter. 

Sledge wanted to stay in that moment forever.

~*~

Sledge dropped his keys on the table, shuffling through his mail. 

Bills, letter from Mother he’d ignore, one with his name scrawled in messy letters-

Sledge paused, gently tracing the large writing. 

“Oh, Snafu,” he mumbled, tearing it open. “You stupid bastard.”

The letter was simple, albeit short -

_Cher,_  
_You already know what this means, don’t you? Sorry to hurt that little heart of yours, but I can’t do anything to stop death, and I never was the type to turn the reaper away. Listen, Genie, remember how we met? Maybe someday, dunno when, but we can meet again. Maybe in another place like Mobile, but it’ll be again just the same. Two boys’ll meet in some ice cream shop and one’ll hear the other order something strange, and they’ll know. Maybe not why, but they’ll know they’ll be together. Don’t get too old now, cher, you never know when I’ll get back, and we don’t want this out of balance again, do we?_  
_Yours,_  
_Merriell Shelton_

Sledge stared at the page for a moment, a long moment, and found himself thinking of Snafu’s photograph. 

The young man had been staring at the camera with a wild, feral smile and curls that seemed to go in every direction. 

Sledge had waited all night, looking everywhere for the man in the hopes that he’d arrive. 

He’d been disappointed. 

So, Sledge put down the letter, finding himself drifting out of his apartment and down the street to the ice cream shop. 

He sat down at the seat Snafu had occupied the day they met and softly drew in a breath. 

“Lime-vanilla ice cream, please.”


End file.
